


stray

by vol_ctrl



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, Pets, Vox Talks Like Max Headroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28600950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vol_ctrl/pseuds/vol_ctrl
Summary: How Vox met Vark. ♥
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	stray

“Well, that was  _ fz-fx-fun _ .”

Vox stood alone in an opulent penthouse. Well, what  _ had been  _ an opulent penthouse until a rousing little confrontation had left it an utter wreck. The gilded walls were now scarred with black lines from where the circuits had been blown through and through. Shattered glass was scattered across rugs and ostentatious marble floors. Furniture had been overturned and paintings had been knocked from the walls.

“We should dz-dx-do this more often,” Vox said to the smoking corpse by his boot. With a little chuckle to himself, he gave the corpse one more little poke with the toe of his boot. Lifeless--but wasn’t everything in Hell?

He  _ could  _ tear out this fucker’s heart and be done with it for good. But that was one of the  _ beauties  _ of murder in Hell. One could take it all the way, and then some, and so long as that heart remained intact, the sorry Sinner would come back. It might take hours, days, weeks of agonizing regeneration, but eventually they would come back.

“Shz-shx-shame about the place,” Vox sighed as he looked around. His grin spread wide across his screen, satisfied. It had been a while since he’d gotten so  _ messy. _ Didn’t have to make such a mess, but when he made a  _ personal call  _ like this, he did like to have a little fun. It wasn’t a broadcast--too many variables with this  _ particular  _ altercation--so he had to make it fun somehow.

“Trust you won’t mz-mx-make that mistake again,” Vox mused as he strode around the destruction. “Bz-bx-but if you do!  _ Well. _ We  _ will  _ do this mz-mx-more often.” Even without an audience, Vox couldn’t resist a performance.

Somewhere, something  _ whimpered. _

Vox paused, tilted his screen with a little fizzle of static. He settled and rerouted his current, amplified his on-board microphones. Faint at first, but then with more clarity, he heard something  _ scratching. _

He could just ignore it. But he’d done a thorough job so far. It would be downright  _ unprofessional  _ to leave stones unturned. He turned on his heel and followed the sounds.

“Animal, vz-vx-vegetable, or mineral?” he muttered to himself--or perhaps not himself, but whatever poor Sinner was hiding somewhere in the ruins--with a chuckle. “Sz-sx-sinner, imp, or golem?”

His boots crunched heavy over glass as he stalked the sounds. The source seemed to be coming from under the collapsed frame of the ridiculous four poster canopy bed. Something scratching and whimpering with greater panic.

“There, thz-thx-there,” Vox said with false reassurance. Two for one. Just his luck. Another sorry sacrifice to the importance of his  _ privacy. _ Whoever was shacking up with the sorry wannabe hacker he had just dispatched was a liability. That just wouldn’t do. 

“Dz-dx-didn’t see you there,” he said as he gripped the edge of the frame, shifting his eager current into his opposite hand, ready to strike. “Let’s get you out from under there,” he placated, then tore the frame up with a manic grin.

What he found was…. not what he expected. It wasn’t Sinner, imp, or golem. Didn’t look much like a mineral or a vegetable, either. It was arguably an animal, but wrong in the way most ‘animals’ in Hell were. Conflicting attributes seemed to be the order of the day when God, or whoever, populated Hell with animals.

The current sizzling and sparking in Vox’s hand fizzled out. There, whimpering and scratching along the floor, was a…. Shark? Dog? Thing. It certainly was something.

“Oh.”

Vox didn’t  _ do  _ pets. In that he didn’t kill them, obviously. He wasn’t a complete monster. But he also didn’t keep pets. Which left him at a bit of an impasse.

The creature moved on wobbly legs as it found itself free from where it had been trapped, shaking all over and blinking warily.

Vox felt a most unusual  _ twinge  _ in his chest. It looked hurt. Might be better to put it out of its misery.  _ He  _ certainly wasn’t going to nurse it back to health. He didn’t know the first thing about… sharks. Or… dogs?

“Poor thing,” he muttered with a grimace.

The shark-dog--landshark?--peered up at him, tail curled up against itself, giving him those puppy dog eyes that made Vox feel  _ horrible. _

No. No way. He wasn’t--he  _ couldn’t. _ Best just… let it fend for itself.

But even if he went that route--just left the door open and let nature, such that it was, take its course, there was glass  _ everywhere. _

Vox stared at the shark and the shark stared back at Vox.

Inexplicably, Vox found himself carrying a landshark puppy wrapped up in a rich comforter through a ruined penthouse and out onto a darkened street. He’d cut the power surrounding the penthouse before he made his grand entrance--the  _ absence  _ of power was just as much his signature as the glut of it--and he was grateful for the cover of darkness as he made his ungainly exit.

“There,” Vox muttered as he set the trembling puppy down. He peeled the comforter back a bit so the shaking creature wasn’t tangled up in it, then stood back. “Gz-gx-go on,” he said. “You’re free!” He tried to sound excited. Animals responded to that sort of thing, right?

The landshark just stared up at him. Then, his hammer-shaped head began to wave from side to side, and realized he was  _ outside. _ His spirits brightened and he bounded out of the comforter.

“Woah,” Vox muttered, surprised at how quickly and fluidly the landshark hopped up and around the yard. “Gz-gx-guess you’re not hz-hx-hurt.” A little relief sank his shoulders. The adrenaline of his evening had spiked and dipped and spiked again--and now he was set for another crash.

With a sigh and one last look at the puppy sniffing(?) around the yard, Vox turned on his heel and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. He headed down the street. He could call a car, but his muscles were still burning with spent current, the channels and circuits of his system singed and eager. He did enjoy the occasional walk through the streets--see the city like the  _ common people. _

His system was still on high alert, so he turned sharply when he felt something  _ racing  _ toward him. He was startled, but also put off alert, to see the landshark bounding up beside him.

“Whz-whx-what do you want?” he asked with a little smirk.

The puppy barked at him.

Vox sizzled with a snort of laughter. “That’s the wz-wx-weirdest fucking bark I’ve ever heard.”

The little shark barked again with a little hop as he trotted along beside him.

“I dz-dx-don’t have any food,” he told the creature.

The shark perked up with a hopeful whine.

“Nz-nx-no, I  _ don’t  _ have any.  _ No, _ ” he said emphatically.

The shark slowed a bit, watching Vox. Vox continued on, sparing the creature a look, but then turning back to face forward. After a beat, the creature was back in step with him.

“You’d think yz-yx-you’d be grateful for your freedom,” Vox said conversationally. He sighed. “I gz-gx-get it. I saved you. I’m your sz-sx-savior.” He grinned down at the shark. Because of the shape of his mouth and all those rows of teeth, it looked like the pup was grinning back. “But I’m not a dog person. And I’m dz-dx-definitely not a  _ shark  _ person.”

The pup tilted his head at Vox.

“Incompatible. Me and shz-shx-sharks.”

The creature got very excited when Vox glitched over that particular word and barked at him, hopping from foot to foot. Vox had to admit--it was pretty cute.

“No. Nz-nx-no,” Vox insisted in a sweet tone. “Sz-sx-stop being cute. You’re not following me home.”

Vox might say that, but that didn’t deter the landshark in the least.

The media man frowned and kicked at a loose bit of pavement on the sidewalk. That got the creature excited, and Vox watched as it ran ahead to examine the skittering bit of rubble. And, that gave Vox an idea. Once he caught back up to the excited, tail-wagging landshark and his bit of rubble, he reached down and picked up the rock. With a wind of his arm, he sent the rubble sailing off down the street.

“Go gz-gx-get it!”

The stubby-legged landshark went racing into the dark after the projectile, and Vox let out a sigh of relief. There. Sorted. No dumb little puppy trailing after him.

Vox, however, did not account for just how acute a dog/shark hybrid’s sense of smell might be. Not long after that flapping tail had disappeared into the darkness, that goofy hammer head came racing out of it, honed directly in on Vox.

“Oh, cz-cx-come on,” Vox sighed, but he couldn’t help grinning.

The pup dropped the bit of rubble awkwardly at Vox’s feet, then looked up at him, tail wagging so hard it made his whole body wiggle.

“ _ No. _ ” Vox tried again, fixing a stern look on his screen. This didn’t deter the landshark so much as confuse him. He lowered down, nudged the bit of rubble toward him, and barked emphatically.

“Nz-nx-no, we’re not playing.” Vox resumed his stride down the sidewalk. For a moment or two, he went unaccompanied. But there was that stubborn pup after a few feet, carrying his improvised toy in his silly little shark grin.

“Cz-cx-can’t be good for your teeth,” Vox muttered, trying to ignore the creature. He kept his screen aloft, not even looking at it. But the pup only became more insistent, growling(?) around his prize, trotting close to Vox. When that failed to get his attention, the pup dropped his bit of rubble and instead tried to sink his teeth into the edge of Vox’s pant leg.

“NO!” Vox shouted and jerked away sharply. Okay, not cute anymore. He couldn’t have a fucking shark dog thing nipping at his heels. He lashed out instinctively and threw a concentrated bolt of current at the sidewalk between them. The pavement cracked, sparks and rubble exploding from the point. “Get lost!”

With a yelp, the creature jumped back and cowered. He turned pitiful eyes up at Vox, but the TV man turned on his heel, unswayed, and quickened his pace down the street.

It started out as a little whimper. Then a whine. Vox had almost put a block between himself and the landshark, and he could hear him crying. He just needed to get a little further. Just turn the corner and he’d soon be out of earshot.

If only.

The crying haunted him. At first Vox thought it might be some weird echo through the darkened alleys and buildings, or even just stuck in his head. But when he finally glanced back, he found that the puppy was  _ still  _ following him. At a distance, dejected, but still trudging after him.

He left the neighborhood he had marked with blackout and entered more populated streets. Surely he’d lose the dumb thing there. Or someone else would nab it. What did he care? He _wasn’t_ going to keep a pet. Where would it sleep? What did it eat? And dealing with _dog shit?_ _Shark-dog shit??_ No. Out of the question.

And it was a  _ shark. _ At least part shark. Vox, personally, felt neutral about sharks as a concept, but it was their usual environment that disagreed with him. Water. And lots of it. Oceans of it, usually. Landsharks were… different, he’d hazard a guess, but it was still shark- _ ish. _ Shark- _ adjacent. _

Electronics and water did not mix. Hell, Vox couldn’t even take a bath or a shower like a normal person. Demon. Whatever. (Not that normal hygiene was exactly  _ normal  _ in Hell, anyway.) For him, hygiene involved oils and a whole routine and--no! No, he made enough concessions in his mere existence to stay away from water. He wasn’t about to shake that up for a  _ pet. _ A pet that he didn’t even want in the first place.

Across the board:  _ no. _

Before he knew it, he arrived at the foot of the Network Suites, and he had spent the whole damn walk thinking about all the reasons he didn’t want a pet, shark-dog or otherwise. He cast a glance up, then a cursory glance back.

And there he was. His paws were dirty, his little grin less bright as he panted from the length of the walk. He seemed to be walking more gingerly, now, as if his feet were sore.

Vox frowned. Only one thing left to do. He sighed.

“Cz-cx-c’mere, boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Might write some more Vox & Vark shenanigans, just wanted to play around with how my take on Vox first met his Vark.
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter @vol_ctrl for more Hazbin content, including early access to stories before I share them here and WIPs.
> 
> ♥ ♥ ♥


End file.
